Sicilienne Op 78
by JusttMee123
Summary: His favorite memory of her is of them just sitting in her tiny studio apartment, listening to her play.


His favorite memory of her is of them just sitting in her tiny studio apartment, listening to her play.

He can recall every detail perfectly; the sound of the rain hitting the window, where they both sat in the room, how she had her eyes closed the entire time, the way her hair fell. She had been playing his favorite, Fauré's Sicilienne Op. 78, despite complaining beforehand that he should at least challenge her when he makes requests. He had simply smiled at her and popped in the CD with the piano accompaniment.

The second before she started playing was always his favorite.

The moment she started playing, it was as if they both had been transported to another world. He wasn't a SHIELD agent that had to jump from one end of the country to the other at a moment's notice and she wasn't a then-unemployed musician. They were just Phil and Audrey, two people very much in love. And when the music ended and she slowly opened her eyes, they had looked at each other from across the room and he had refused to clap and ruin the moment.

If he could have one wish, it would be to live in that moment forever.

Shortly after that evening, Audrey had nailed her audition for the Portland Symphony Orchestra and was offered a job as 2nd chair Cellist and a better apartment in the middle of the city. When she had told him the news he had told her he'd follow her wherever she went as long as she wanted him around. They'd moved to Portland a week later and he went to every one of her concerts.

It was a little strange at first, having a place to call home. For the longest time he'd had no real place to go back to at night and call his home. He'd slept in motels and the occasional hut he'd made with his bare hands as a field agent, and as a senior officer late nights and early mornings were a given, so he usually just found a dark, quiet corner to curl up in.

So the stable, livable apartment was almost foreign to him and on more than one occasion Audrey had had to reassure him that it was real. And after a while he realized how much he wanted this, the home with the white picket fence and the wife with 2.5 kids and a dog. He had planned to leave SHIELD and propose to Audrey.

But the New York happened and those dreams went up in smoke. By the time he was revived and functioning they had already told Audrey, and there was no way in this world for him to get it all back. He wished with all his heart that he could just show up at her door and tell her there had been a mistake, but he figured doing so would just cause her to have a heart attack.

As soon as the doctors released him and Fury had granted him a few months of leave, he'd gone to Portland. He went to every performance again, sitting in the back row, but she was never at a single performance. Her name was still listed in the programs, but her chair was always empty. Still, he continued to go to all the performances until he knew every song by heart and didn't even bother looking at his program.

And then, one night, after they had gone through the entire program the conductor turned around and announced that there would be a brief break and then a special performance would follow. Confused, he opened his program and pulled out an insert. It said that Audrey Nathan would be giving a special solo performance at the end of the night with her accompanist, and when he turned the paper over his heart had jumped up into his throat.

_'In loving memory of Philip Coulson'_

It read, and underneath was a picture of the two of them. He recognized it as one they had taken during their vacation to Chicago, the Navy Pier in the background and the Ferris wheel all lit up.

When he looked up again the stage had been cleared except for a single chair and the grand piano, and Audrey had walked onto stage in the blue dress he'd gotten her for her last birthday and bowed. She took a minute to situate herself with the cello and then nodded to her accompanist, who started to play. He knew the song within two seconds, and the first tears fell.

She closed her eyes once like she had so many times before and began to play. Her fingers moved across the fingerboard from memory and bow moved in a perfectly straight line across the strings. Her ear was nearly touching the fingerboard and he idly wondered what the music sounded like that close. He watched, entranced, as she lost herself in the music, pouring her entire soul into the piece because she knew how much he liked it when she played that piece for him.

And as the piece ended once more and everyone in the audience jumped to their feet, applauding and cheering, he had held his head in his hands and cried.

He still has that program tucked away in the drawer of his nightstand.


End file.
